Hell Comes for Us All
by Dark-Nyan-Kitty
Summary: Lightning is living on her own, and is struggling with her depression. She can't seem to fight it anymore. One night, a boy with red eyes and black hair appears in her bedroom. He claims to be a demon and wants something from her. What could it be? Her life, soul? Rated T for some mild cussing, violence, and other things that may or may not come later. All characters are human.
1. Chapter 1

I stared at my pale wrist, now dripping with my own blood. The once pristine-white sink tainted with red pools, leaking into the sink. I thought for just a second how delicious this might look to a vampire.

Ugh, I shouldn't have stayed up late last night reading those Creepypastas. I growled to myself, reflecting on how the voices grew silent, but seemingly screamed with pleasure as I read every single story. Well, two stories. The blood is what excited all of them, all these morbid voices calling out in my head at once.

I shouted at myself, suddenly, in displeasure. I should never have stayed up so late, I never should have read those stories. Because of how excited everything became, I finally did it. My "pearly-perfect" wrists that had never been obscured because of my depression, insanity, or anything, had been cut only moments ago. My depression kept coming in waves, harder each time. I struggled often just to resist laying on the floor and giving up. Some days that's exactly what I had to do.

I kept staring at my wrists as they pooled blood. The color was the exact shade of my hair, the exact look, except liquid and pooling out of my wrists. I watched it now, horror creeping though my chest, up my neck. I knew I wouldn't be sick, just devastated. I had broken my own promise to myself that I would never cut, never come close to my wrist with something sharp.

But the razor had been so compelling, somehow, when I dropped it and it broke. I picked it up, a razor blade loose from one of the edges that had snapped off. I took it and wrenched it out to study it. That was my original purpose, that's all. Just to study it.

That's what I kept telling myself.

I had subconsciously walked over to the sink as I studied the small metal blade. I sat on the counter, just staring.

_Is this how my friends do it?_ I found myself thinking. _What would it feel like?_

_No, I can't. Out of all these years, I can't cut myself. I have tried, but couldn't stomach it._

_But this is a different blade, something that might not hurt. It's not a knife. Just slowly lower your hand…_

I let the hand that held the blade hand drop to my alternate wrist, slowly.

_Just a little pressure… That's it…_

I pressed the blade to my wrist, but didn't break the skin.

_Now… Just simply slide it across… Just like sliding something across a tabletop…_

I let my hand drag across my wrist. My hand jerked away when I saw the blood and felt the stinging pain. The blood beaded for a moment, hen began dripping down my wrist that was parallel to the counter, hovering over the sink. Then it dripped as my hand shook.

I stared and stared at my wrist. Minutes passed as I stared at the falling blood. It was half an hour to an hour to see what I had really done. Half an hour to an hour to make me cry. By then it had begun to scab over. It wasn't even deep, just a small scratch, really. I've had way worse. But never on my wrists. Never intentionally hurting myself.

I finally got up, grabbed some toilet paper, and layered it over my wound. I, then, grabbed some paper towels and some spray to clean off the sink.

When I was done, I stared at the bloody rag. There wasn't that much blood…

So I'll admit I exaggerated so I could make it a little more dramatic. But, I did it to show how I felt when I realized what I had done. I felt terrible. I wanted more now to actually cut again, deeper. I wanted to end it all rather than admit I had done something I thought I would never succumb to.

Hell, let me go buy some cigarettes, too, since I'm breaking my own promises. I always wanted to show people you could get through life without cutting yourself or loading your head with drugs. Now, I regret doing anything, or even trying anything.

I just really wanted to die. Most of the time, that's the only thing I wanted. Now I wanted it more than ever.

Goosebumps rose on my arms as the room got colder. I looked up at the air conditioner, but couldn't hear if it had turned on or not.

"_If you really want to die, why aren't you killing yourself right now?_" a male voice whispered in my ear.

I ignored the voice in my head as it joined the others. I walked to my room and lay on my floor. Today I would not lose. I would not die. I would stay here, alive, and fighting. For something.

I would get back to myself on that.

I lay there, in the dark room for hours. I kept my eyes closed to the nothingness. I pretended I didn't exist. I pretended I was someone who wasn't me, someone who hadn't just cut their wrist. I let myself cry as I lay there.

I pretended I was stone. Stone can't hurt others, stone can't feel pain. Stone can't cut itself.

Stone is taken for granted.

People pass it like it's nothing. Sure, some notice it, take interest in it. But most of the time, it sat there unnoticed. No one asks what it wants for Christmas. No one does anything but kick it out of their way.

Maybe I was just a stone, a small rock in a field of gravel. And not one of the interesting-colored ones, either. Just a normal, gray, uninteresting, common stone. Hidden in plain sight, but no one can really see me. Out of all the stones you see, I'm underneath one.

"_Get over yourself already._"

"_Kill yourself and be done_."

"_I want breakfast._"

"_Soar above the Grand Canyon's waterfalls._"

"_Die._"

"_Sleep is good._"

The last voice stuck out from the rest. It was the one from earlier, the one I stated. It made me realize how tired I was for one in the morning. My insomnia apparently didn't want to hit me so hard tonight. Maybe it was because of my cutting.

I lay there, not wanting to get up. I didn't feel like I deserved my bed. I didn't feel like I even deserved this floor.

I felt the virtual darkness of sleep begin to creep around me. Icy arms of dreams wrapped around my torso, drawing me backwards against an icy body. It felt like death surrounding me. I welcomed the many nightmares that surrounded my sleep, and the unconsciousness welcomed my sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke, exhausted. Even when I slept, sleep seemed to elude me. I sat up off of my floor, stiff from sleeping in the same position all night. I lay down again, rolling over to try and sleep again. I succeeded in nothing.

I was still alone in an empty apartment, no people anywhere. My parents were dead, any known relatives the same. I don't know when my depression started, or my insomnia. I was sixteen, it was the middle of summer, and I refused to live anywhere but on my own. I had a job, of course, but it was only ten dollars an hour. That was something the owner of the stupid fast-food joint did because he knew I had no family.

Thank God I still had my virginity. The man was so very nice, and even stuck his neck out for me every once in a while. He only wanted to see that I was well taken care of. Bless his soul.

I sighed and got up. I got dressed, and decided to take my truck to work. An early bird gets the worm, as the saying goes. I decided to stop by a Starbucks, first. I was sure to take a slow time at five-fifteen in the morning.

When I arrived at work, my sandy-color haired boss welcomed me. He was always first there at Burger Hut.

"How are you doing this fine morning?" he welcomed me as I entered the kitchen.

"Same as ever, David."

"Just call me Dave. I'd like you to be comfortable here."

"I know."

He sighed. "Look, the only reason I'm here today is because I know you don't have a phone."

"Scary."

"Sorry, but you told me that yourself. Anyway, Seraphim, Violet, John, and Trish called in sick today, Marty's still on his own leave, which he refuses to tell me what he's doing, and Mark is still on vacation."

"What about everyone else? Olivia and Geoff?"

"I haven't heard a peep out of those two."

"So everyone's gone?"

"Everyone but you and me, kid. I don't think we'll open up today, it's just too risky. We can't do this without at least five people on staff."

"So what will we do?"

"There's nothing we _can _do."

I sighed. "So what…? Turn around and head back home?"

"I guess so."

"Sorry, David…"

"Not your fault, Lightning. You're better than the rest, showing up today."

I nodded.

"So… Here." He handed me something from his pocket. "A full day's pay."

"I… Why are you giving me this…?"

"It's a treat… But don't tell the others, they'll want some as well. And, I'm raising your pay to twelve buck an hour."

"A raise? Why?"

"I see you as the best worker here. You work hard, and you're always here. You never seem to be sick."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Literally." He chuckled.

I laughed, then turned to leave.

"Wait."

"What?"

"I'll call you tomorrow incase no one shows up."

I smiled. "No phone, remember?"

"Right." He smacked himself on the forehead.

"I'll just come, anyway."

"Okay."

I drove home, took a sleeping supplement, and went to my room. I lay there for an hour or so until I finally passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

When I awoke, it was dark. I picked up my phone that was sitting on my night stand. The light blinded me for a second, but I read that it was nine at night. I had slept the whole day. I looked around the room, then sat up. I got out of bed and hit the light switch. I suddenly realized what was so different. The voices were gone, only total silence. I wondered if that was what woke me up.

"The voices are gone." I whispered, hardly able to believe myself.

I danced around for a moment, then sat on my bed. I sat, eyes closed, and listened to the silence of buzzing energy and cars passing the apartment complex. No more voices trying to tell me strange things, to kill myself, or making frightening sense.

"But are we really gone?" asked a deep voice from within my room.

My eyes snapped open to see a boy about my age, maybe older, perched on my desk chair. He had black hair, with bright red streaks, tan skin, and normal clothing on. That's what was normal about him.

What wasn't normal was how he had red eyes and brown-purple leather wings, which were folded behind his head. I stared at him in horror. He looked a little smug, a crooked smile stretched across his face. We sat there for minutes on end until it became apparent that he wasn't going to speak first.

"Wh-wh-wh-what are you doing here…?" I asked, stammering.

"I'm always here, every single night. You just don't notice."

"B-but why…?"

"Because I feel like it."

"H-h-how did you… How did you get in…?"

"I came in."

There was silence for quite some time again.

"Wh… Wh-what are you…?"

"A boy."

"N-no… I-I mean… Y-you're not human…"

"Oh, because of these?" One wing extended away from his body, reaching a span longer than both of my arms put together. "I'm what you _humans_ would call a demon."

"A-a d-demon…?"

"Yes." He let the wing fold behind his back once more.

I stared at him, mortified. I would have guessed a vampire, because they looked like bat wings. But a demon, somehow, seemed much, much worse.

"S-so… H-have you come… To steal my soul… O-or…"

"I never wanted anything to do with you."

"What…?" The way he said it in a past-tense bothered me.

"You have something I want. If you gave it to me, I would take away the voices, the depression, and the insomnia."

"That was _you_ all these years?"

"Yes."

"Wh-why on Earth-!"

"Not Earth. Hell."

"What…?"

"I came here because I was assigned to get something from you. I'm not allowed to take it by force, but by persuasion."

"And what if I give you what you want?"

"Then you can go on with your life without your burdens. You may be happier."

I considered this for a moment.

"What am I even giving you?" I asked, cautious.

"A talisman."

"A what…?"

"A special talisman that was stolen millennia ago. I was assigned to finding it."

"But I don't have any-…"

"Oh, don't you? I followed you ever since you were a baby. I've watched you grow up. You have had the talisman with you the entire time."

"But… I don't…"

"It's why I could manipulate you so easily. I could use it to give you certain problems because of its special properties."

"But, I don't-"

"No, you do." He stood up, walking towards my bed, staring at me.

"K-keep away!" I did my best to back up on my bed, away from him. I pressed up against the wall.

He didn't stop. He kept coming closer, until he climbed onto the bed hovering over me. He knees, on either side of my legs, propped him up as he leaned over me.

"No, I don't want to-"

"It's not what you think," he cut me off.

"Wh-what…?"

"The talisman… It's here…"

He pointed to my rib cage, then poked me right underneath my left rib. The finger felt like fire.

"Ow!"

"That's the talisman. The talisman of light and fire."

"Wh-what are you talking about…?"

"This…" He drew out something like a scroll, unwound it, and showed me the picture inside. It looked like a rough sketch of a rectangle with rounded edges, with the Japanese character for fire in the center.

"You have that inside of you, Lightning."

"I—I do…?"

"Yes."

"Okay… I…" I couldn't take it. It was an information overload. Everything around me went black.

I heard the boy calling to me.

"Lightning…? Lightning, don't fall asleep. Wake up… I can't come-"

And that was all I heard.


End file.
